To own a clean shirt
by Sapphire1112
Summary: One shot based on the series 19 episode 'In plain sight'. Jack gets shot with a soap bullet. From Jack's POV. I do not own the characters.


I go into the training room at the army base, rattling the tablets I just found in Monk's locker. These men are armed, so maybe this isn't the best idea. Nevertheless, I'm here now. I'll let Nikki kill me later for being stupid.

"What's that?" Ward asks.

"You did a pretty good clean up on Bruno's Webley." I comment – jumping straight in and directing the conversation at the killer – Monk. "But not quite good enough. You see, we found sweat in the crevices,and in the sweat – penicillamine. It counter-acts potential lead poisoning after a gunshot wound." I explain – giving Monk no doubt that he's been found out, and thus probably sealing my own fate. This really wasn't a good idea. Nikki will definitely kill me – if Monk doesn't get there first. I've started though, so I must finish what I came to do, regardless of the outcome. "Now, Tim Friend, he's never been shot and I found these in _your_ locker. You took the Webley from Bruno after you shot him and planted it in Tim's car as insurance. Or did you know he suspected you?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. I get it. You're working your way through every member of Firearms Division and now it's my turn. Tell him to get out." He remarks to his commanding officer.

Dismissal. Well, that's to be expected, but it won't wash, sonny – the evidence is conclusive. I don't think you _do_ get it. You might as well admit to it, because you're not getting out of this. You're going nowhere.

"You showed up at Keating's, venting your grief, kicking the door, fighting those tears. Why, that was...That was some performance, that." I remark.

"It wasn't a performance." He snaps at me. "I loved Jo."

"Oh, yeah," I agree. "You loved her so much that you killed her. She opened the door and turned her back to let you in. She trusted you, and you shot her from behind in cold blood. _Like a coward_." I add. I could lose my temper soon. I have no sympathy for men like him.

The coward part seems to do the trick and he stops denying it so adamantly. " _She_ was the coward." He spits. "It's all about loyalty, Jack. Do you know what it feels like when your jaw shatters?"

No.

"What it's like to have your mouth wired shut for _three_ months?" He continues.

No.

"To know that...you will never feel the same man again? And yet, the only thing everyone else is concerned about is whether scum like Helena Lubas deserved what they got."

This is as good as a confession to me. No matter what happened to Monk, he still killed three innocent people and he clearly doesn't feel any remorse. Unbelievable. I shake my head at him as he continues. If you're looking for _understanding,_ Monk, you won't find it here.

"That brush with death brings you _so_ much closer to life and you want to hold onto that as tight as you can. "

I haven't been shot, but I was run over and garrotted. It hasn't made _me_ kill anyone.

"It's a second chance, right?" Monk concludes. "I wasn't gonna let Karim Benzal take that from me."

So instead, you took away his child's father. "So, you tortured and murdered an innocent man to protect yourself?"

"To protect the team." He retorts.

Sorry, what was it you just said?

 _'It's a second chance. I wasn't gonna let Karim Benzal take that from me.'_

Idiot. There's no 'I' in team. Everyone knows that.

Ward clearly knows it too. "Tim made a mistake v- a human error – a split-second decision, and Helena Lubas was the casualty of that." He exclaims. "You've murdered three people in cold blood."

"And you're gonna spend the rest of your second chance paying for it." I inform Monk – perhaps stupidly.

I don't have time to consider the matter, because, knowing the game is up Monk shoots me straight through the heart. I feel something hit my chest and I fall backwards to the ground. I'm aware of a second gunshot – that I find later was Ward shooting Monk in the head. He did so too late for me, though. It _would_ have been too late.

I keep my eyes closed partly from shock – and partly because I'm waiting for the inevitable that never comes. The pain, the smell of blood, imminent death and Nikki crying. I shouldn't have come in here unarmed, to confront a man I knew _was_ armed. Hindsight truly is a wonderful thing.

I hear the yelling of armed police, and then Ward telling them to stand down, followed by DI Cooke.

"Jack? Jack! Jack...come on, mate!"

We're mates now. That's nice.

I feel my shirt being ripped open, and having realised the absence of pain – aside from the initial impact which did actually hurt, I open my eyes and examine the damage too. Or rather, the lack of it.

"Oh, thank God." Cooke retorts. He picks up the bullet next to me and examines it. "What is this?"

"Training bullets." Ward explains. "Made of soap."

"But _why_?" Cooke asks, baffled.

Why are they made of soap – or why did Monk have training bullets in his gun?

The latter apparently.

"I couldn't be sure." Wards tells us.

I'm still on the ground at this point, so Cooke is worried in case I did get injured. "Jack? You ok, mate? You alright? Jack?"

I nod. "Did you _rip_ my shirt?"

Nikki is waiting for us by the car. Thankfully, someone told her I was ok. She hugs me, looking relieved. "Don't do that again!" She retorts crossly.

I knew she'd be cross.

When we get back to the Lyell, Nikki holds the door open for me.

"Make us a wee cup of tea, would you, love?" I comment wearily, handing her my forensic case. "Thanks."

She eyes me distastefully as I walk into the office, where Thomas is waiting. "What am I – your 'work wife'?" She retorts indignantly.

"If you like." I shrug looking over my shoulder.

"I was hoping for a slightly _more_ romantic proposal, Jack!" She remarks, strutting past me and giving me a playful thump on the chest as she goes by.

"Ow, Nikki!" I protest, rubbing my chest. "I've been shot there."

She smirks at me. "I'm not sure you have."

"They've reopened the Helena Lubas inquest." Thomas informs us.

"Who says?" I ask him.

"Sharpe."

I smile and pat his shoulder, before going into the workspace I share with Nikki, to wait for my cuppa, but I'm astounded to see a pile of soap and a post-it note when I get there.

'Welcome back Jack!' the post-it reads.

I stare at my desk in complete astonishment. "What the..."

I pick up a bar of soap and examine it as though I've never seen the stuff before. I have – just not on my desk. And the note...I mean...WHAT?!

"We would have done balloons and a banner." Clarissa remarks going past. "But there was no time."

I stare after her – and then it dawns on me. I got shot with a soap bullet. "Oh yeah. I get it." I comment as Nikki and Thomas chuckle.

Clarissa must have raided the cleaner's supply cupboard. She might get ticked off for that later – not that she'll take any notice. I toss the soap up and catch it, before smelling it. Peach.

Eventually, Nikki places a freshly made cup of tea in front of me.

"Cuppa for the biggest _idiot_ in the room." She remarks.

"Nikki!" I whine. "Why are you being mean to me?"

"Jokes aside – you were reckless and irresponsible, Jack." She tells me.

"I got the truth." I shrug. "It was all fine."

"You got _shot_." She points out. "That is not _fine_!"

"With soap!" I retort.

"Oh, you knew that, did you - when you strolled in there like a...over-preened...peacock?"

"An over-preened peacock?!" I splutter.

"Shut up!" She exclaims. "Don't laugh at me when I'm telling you off."

"Sorry!" I chuckle.

"Anyway, DI Cooke had no idea they were soap bullets, so I'm pretty sure that you didn't either." She continues. "The point is, you went in there unarmed – to confront a man you knew _was_ armed – _and_ a man you knew had killed before. It was bloody stupid, Jack. We could have been planning your funeral right now."

"She's right, Jack." Thomas sighs. "It was pretty stupid."

I sip my tea and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry, Nikki."

"To be fair though, Nikki." Thomas adds. "You _frequently_ do things like that."

"Yes." Nikki agrees. "And to be fair, Thomas, Jack usually makes _me_ apologise afterwards too."

"She has a point." Clarissa comments, re-appearing.

Nikki moves behind my chair, and drapes her arms over my shoulders fondly. "At least you've got a clean shirt." She chuckles, ruffling my hair. "That's the most important thing!"

"Oh, _thanks_!" I retort.

She giggles. "You're welcome."

I think for a minute. "Cooke ripped one of the buttons off." I complain.

She sighs. "Well never mind, Jack, I'll put another one on later!"


End file.
